


Infatuations and Zombies... Or Maybe a Cat

by lecturience, Nia_River (lecturience)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Cat Tobirama, Cuddles, F/M, Flustered Madara, Humor, M/M, No actual zombies, Not Actually A Cat, One Shot, Pining Madara, Sleep Deprivation, Smitten Izuna, Strong Touka, Tired Tobirama, Uchiha Have A Type, probably, so smitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29040117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecturience/pseuds/lecturience, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecturience/pseuds/Nia_River
Summary: Izuna couldn’t be blamed for the fact that his mission report kept lapsing into tangents about Touka’s many virtues. Touka was terrifying – it wasamazing. Possibly not as terrifying as her little cousin though. Sleep-deprived Tobirama bore an uncanny resemblance to the walking dead  – and alsocats?
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Touka/Uchiha Izuna
Comments: 17
Kudos: 267





	Infatuations and Zombies... Or Maybe a Cat

**Author's Note:**

> New penname! Because I was getting bored of the old one. Also, I moved house, so I no longer live ‘near a river’. (Yeah, not my most creative idea ever.)
> 
>  **lecturience** [n]  
> 1\. Thirst to read.  
> 2\. Promiscuous reading.
> 
> The fact the second definition made me giggle is a large part of why I chose it.
> 
> As for the story, I present my first Izuna/Touka-focussed fic! (But with a strong secondary Madara/Tobirama, because I can’t help myself.) I hope you enjoy!

Freshly returned to Konoha after a month away, Izuna stood before the Hokage and gave his half of the verbal mission report. And if it went on a bit longer than such reports usually did, well, he’d never been on a mission with _Touka Senju_ before – which was a grave tragedy, he now knew. He’d known the woman was strong – third strongest in her clan – but knowing and _seeing_ were two different things.

Touka was terrifying.

It was _amazing_.

So really, Izuna couldn’t be blamed for his infatuation! _Or_ the fact that his mission report kept lapsing into tangents about how gracefully Touka had cut off that one enemy’s head, and how she’d made that other ninja _cry_ with genjutsu alone, and had he mentioned the way she did it all without a hair out of place or a single smudge to her perfect makeup?

Hashirama – who had started out interested, then bemused, then amused, and finally impatient, but not _daring_ to interrupt, not when Touka gave him scary, pointed looks every time he tried – sighed deeply and slumped across his desk. “Yes, Izuna. You _have_ mentioned it. Five times now.”

“Right, well.” Izuna shrugged, unrepentant, because Touka was all but preening at his side in a subtle, smug sort of way. And also because, “It bears repeating.”

“I’m sure. But if we could wrap this up?” Hashirama pleaded, literal tears in his eyes.

Izuna frowned. There wasn’t much more to say. Well, no, there was _plenty_ , but nothing Hashirama would care to hear. The man was _not_ a properly appreciative audience. Perhaps, Izuna mused, Hashirama didn’t _deserve_ to be regaled with Touka’s wondrous qualities.

And so Izuna nodded – ignoring Hashirama’s clear relief, and how he looked upwards as if thanking the gods – and briefly summarised the rest of the mission. He was just finishing up when the door to the Hokage’s office slammed open and—

A _zombie_ shambled in!

Izuna did _not_ shriek. And he _definitely_ didn’t hide behind the gorgeous, towering Touka.

“Tobi!” Hashirama cried joyfully. “You finally left your lab!”

Izuna blinked. _What_?

He peeked around Touka’s – strong, muscular – shoulder, and sure enough, that _was_ his former rival. Just… shabbier than Izuna had ever seen him before. Tobirama’s clothes were wrinkled, and burned in places, stained weirdly in others. His hair, usually a spiky halo of white, hung limp and lifeless. Combined with skin even paler than usual, and the dark smudges under bloodshot eyes…

He looked like a walking corpse.

So really, it wasn’t Izuna’s fault he’d mistaken the man for something more nefarious! Touka could stop laughing any time now! And yes, he knew that lazy – unfairly sexy – smirk was her equivalent of outright laughter. He _had_ gotten to know the woman fairly well on their month-long mission, albeit not as well as he _hoped_ to know her.

But that didn’t mean the laughing was okay. He had his pride!

And so, stepping out from behind Touka, Izuna sent her a glare – or what Madara would always insist was a pout, but what did he know? Touka cooed and patted his head, which he didn’t appreciate. Nope, not at all.

Okay, no, he was fooling no one. Izuna leaned into it, because even condescending affection was affection of a sort, and Touka was… He sighed dreamily up at her, and her smirk softened as her hand slid down to cup the back of his neck, and Izuna tried not to _melt_.

Pride? Who needed pride anyway?

“…sorry, but Shouga’s on a mission,” Hashirama was saying softly. “Won’t be back for another couple days.”

Tobirama made a plaintive noise. It reminded Izuna strangely of the clan cats pleading for tuna. It was a pathetic sound, and not at all startlingly endearing, and Izuna absolutely _didn’t_ want to pat and coo at him as Touka had done to Izuna. Though, judging by how Touka’s hand finally left Izuna’s neck – which Izuna did _not_ pout about! – and twitched as she leaned towards Tobirama before aborting the movement, _she_ wanted to pat and coo.

Hashirama, hands clasped beneath his chin and eyes wide and adoring and apologetic, was not much better. But their esteemed Hokage was always weird like that, so it wasn’t really worth noting.

“Shouga?” Izuna muttered, trying to place the name. He’d thought he knew all the Senju of importance by now.

“Something like a fifth cousin once removed,” Touka provided. “Civilian. A baker.”

“Ah.” That would explain his ignorance – Izuna rarely had cause to interact with out-clan civilians.

“Also Tobirama’s preferred cuddle partner.”

Izuna choked. “What!?”

Touka smirked – laughing at him again! – and Izuna _knew_ she’d done it on purpose.

Izuna wanted to demand clarification. She was joking, right? _Right_? Because if not, Madara was going to _brood_. Izuna knew he would. His brother’s pining – which Izuna had long since grown resigned to – was bad enough on a good day. Izuna didn’t want to contemplate the sheer, dramatic Uchiha-style _woe_ that would ensue should it turn out Tobirama was already spoken for.

Before Izuna could get that vital clarification, there was suddenly a ghost in his face.

Izuna jumped back with a shriek, clinging to a lovely bicep. Touka’s arm flexed under his grip – which was not at all distracting, nope. Wait, she wasn’t moving or shaking him off. So… had she flexed _just for Izuna_!? Squeezing the muscled arm a little more, Izuna reflected that she could probably hold him up with ease. Maybe even against a wall? The thought morphed into a sudden, vivid fantasy, and Izuna wondered – with a shiver – what Touka’s thoughts on pegging were…

Thoroughly distracted by the possibility, Izuna jumped again when his vision was once more filled with— ah, not a ghost, just the half-dead-looking Tobirama.

Tobirama narrowed his already sleep-lidded eyes, to the point that Izuna wondered if he could even _see_ anything anymore. He swayed on the spot as he peered blearily in Izuna’s direction – probably no, he didn’t see much – and made a thoughtful sound, nose twitching. Izuna had the oddest thought that if Tobirama had whiskers, they would have twitched too, and when Tobirama jerked back, Izuna imagined the flick of a tail. Tobirama turned away with his usual casual disdain – which, since the village founding, Izuna had gone from despising, to being exasperated by, to being resigned to – and focussed on Touka instead.

Touka sighed, and this time she did free herself from Izuna’s grip – which, again, Izuna did _not_ pout over, because he wasn’t a child – as she held out her arms. “Well, go on then.”

And with that, Tobirama fell into Touka’s embrace.

“What is going _on_?” Izuna whispered to himself.

“It’s the chakra.”

Izuna didn’t jump this time, because he _was_ a shinobi okay. Jumping at evil spirits was one thing – and perfectly sensible – but humans were another matter. Hashirama was nothing to fear, no matter how surprising it was that he’d managed to sneak up on Izuna – he was being inexplicably quiet actually, perhaps in deference to his brother’s exhausted state? – and so Izuna only tensed, and turned his head sharply, an impatient demand for explanation written all over his face.

“The fire chakra,” Hashirama explained, watching it all with the sort of ‘aww’ look that was better suited to kittens and puppies, not the gorgeous and impressive Touka and currently corpse-like Tobirama. “People with really strong chakra natures _feel_ different to a sensor of Tobi’s skill. Earth is quiet and steady, while wind is light and playful. Tobi’s water of course, which is cool and ever in motion, if less dramatically than wind or lightning – lightning is a sharp, buzzing vibration.”

“Okay…?” Izuna said. It was interesting, but didn’t explain what the heck was going on.

“Well, Tobi’s human as much as he’s water-natured, so while feeling cool is nice in summer, it’s uncomfortable in winter. Also, while a sense of constant motion is great for reflexes and thoughts and creativity – or so Tobi tells me – it’s less useful when he’s been on a research bender and _desperately_ needs stillness to sleep.”

“Ah,” said Izuna, beginning to see. Like almost every other Uchiha, Izuna was fire-natured – _that_ must be why Tobirama had come over to inspect him. Unlike most, however, he had a second nature, and it was lightning – doubtless the reason Tobirama ultimately passed him over, thank the gods. Izuna might actually get along with Tobirama these days – in a bickering rivals sort of way – but he didn’t want to be _cuddled_ by him!

But speaking of dual natures. As Izuna had discovered on his recent mission, “Touka has earth and fire.”

Hashirama nodded. “Still and steady, but also warm. Not as warm as cousin Shouga – he’s the strongest fire-natured in our clan – but, with the addition of earth, the next best thing.” He beamed. “An excellent cuddle buddy!” Then he pouted. “ _I’m_ earth too – well, and water – but Tobi never cuddles _me_!” He edged forward, like he might try to join them anyway.

Across the room – where Touka had collapsed on the couch, her cousin draped over her – Tobirama made— was that a _hissing_ sound? It stopped Hashirama in his tracks.

“Growth and movement and tickling vines,” Tobirama grumbled in a slurred, scornful tone. “ _Annoying_.”

Hashirama collapsed in despair.

The first few times Izuna had been witness to the depths of their Hokage’s ridiculousness, he’d been torn between concern and bafflement. The novelty had passed by now though, so Izuna just ignored it – he had more important things to think about.

“We won’t be getting that dango after all then?” Izuna asked. And yes, he was definitely pouting this time. But it was justified! Because he’d had a _date_! Him! Izuna! With the gorgeous, strong, deadly, _amazing_ Touka Senju!

“Another time,” Touka said, eyes catching Izuna’s to convey the intensity of her promise.

Izuna, who had begun to wilt – albeit not as overdramatically as their undignified Hokage – perked up at once.

It was at that moment that the office door slammed open for a second time.

“Hashirama!” Madara shouted “Where did you put— _ack_!”

Izuna blinked. He eyed Touka, now alone on the couch, then the seal-tagged kunai still trembling where it had embedded in the door beside Madara’s head, and _then_ the sight of Tobirama clinging to Izuna’s brother.

Yes. Yes, Tobirama _had_ just used the Hiraishin simply to cross a room and get cuddles.

Sleep-deprived Tobirama, Izuna decided – the frightful walking dead aesthetic aside – was _hilarious_.

But not as hilarious as Madara, who was torn between confusion and increasingly flustered flailing. When he looked desperately over Tobirama’s shoulder, seeking help or an explanation – anything! – Izuna deliberately met his eyes and grinned the most knowing, taunting, little-brotherly grin in his arsenal.

Madara flushed, tearing his gaze away.

Touka laughed as she came to stand at Izuna’s side, as amused by the sight as he was. “Of course he would— Madara’s the strongest fire-natured in the village, if not the country. Of _course_ Tobirama would latch on in this state. Poor Madara”

“Oh, I doubt he minds as much as you think,” Izuna said, rolling his eyes, but still grinning. “Or, you know, at all.”

“Oh _really_ ,” Touka drawled, tone speculative and _dangerous_.

Izuna swallowed hard and considered giving his brother a head’s up, but decided against it. He’d had to put up with the pining for _months_ – if Madara had to endure a terrifying shovel talk, it would be a little bit like karma.

Across the room, Madara’s knees _literally gave out_ as Tobirama buried a hand in his hair and kneaded like a cat did to soften a pillow. Madara had to slump against the wall to prevent himself from folding to the floor. Izuna stifled laughter and then a pout – no, a _glare_ – as Hashirama ruined everyone else’s fun by deciding to intervene and ‘save’ his best friend.

“Tobi? Come on brother, let Madara go. Wouldn’t you prefer to go back to cuddling Touka?” And then Hashirama made the mistake of trying to pry Tobirama off.

Tobirama rounded on his brother with a hiss that deepened into a snarl – which made Madara’s flush deepen, Izuna noted with judgemental amusement – and Hashirama hurriedly backed away, face pale, hands held up defensively.

“ _Mine_ ,” Tobirama snapped – Madara, in the background, whimpered and clutched his robe over his heart. Tobirama met Hashirama’s gaze, and didn’t look away as his hand trailed over the Hokage’s desk and _just happened_ to push one of the decorative bonsai towards the edge.

“Not the cherry blossom!” Hashirama wailed, and dove to save the pot from shattering to the ground.

Tobirama sniffed disdainfully and turned away, slinking back to Madara and pressing close again. “Mine,” he repeated, plaintive and petulant.

Madara, obviously weak to the tone, hesitantly patted him. And then, when Tobirama all but melted into him, he smoothed a hand more firmly down his back, blushing _even more_ and avoiding anyone’s gaze.

“Mine,” Tobirama crooned. “Warm, _so warm_ , like a sunbeam.” Then he bared his teeth at Hashirama over his shoulder. “ _My_ sunbeam!”

“O… _kay_ ,” Hashirama said hastily, voice high-pitched, backing away further as he clutched the bonsai to his chest. “Your sunbeam. Got it.”

Touka rolled her eyes when their esteemed Hokage sent a silent, frightened plea for help her way. “Useless,” she muttered, then approached slowly, pointedly not staring directly at the pair – almost like one would cautiously approach a cat, Izuna noted. “Tobi,” she said coaxingly, “why don’t you take Madara to the couch? It would be much more comfortable, and you could have a nap… with your sunbeam.”

Izuna’s lips twitched, much as Touka’s did. And yeah, that nickname was _definitely_ going to come up repeatedly in future – it was prime teasing material.

Tobirama’s head tilted to one side. If his ears could flicker, Izuna was sure they would – and really, the cat parallels were getting ridiculous. Tobirama apparently decided that yes, Touka’s suggestion had merit, and dragged Madara across the room, shoved him to lay out on the couch, then presumptuously sprawled atop him, making himself comfortable.

“H-hey! Wait! That’s—” Madara’s flustered objections, already half-hearted, cut off entirely when Izuna and Touka unknowingly sent him identical sceptical looks – because really, who did he think he was fooling? Then Madara choked, flushing _tomato-red_ – but eyes wide with besotted wonder – as Tobirama nuzzled under his chin and began to _purr_ as he dozed off.

Okay, no, that was too much.

“Seriously,” Izuna hissed, “is your cousin a _cat_?”

Touka stifled a laugh. “There was actually some speculation, when he was born – because neither Butsuma nor his wife shared his colouring – that the Lady Senju had been seduced by a yokai in disguise,” she whispered. “White hair, red eyes – it had to be either rat, rabbit or cat. And cat yokai are known for that sort of thing in the stories.” She rolled her eyes. “Some of the older, more superstitious elders still believe it, I think.”

“Um…” Hashirama said, still holding the pot and looking awkward as he stood in the middle of his office. “ _What now_!?”

Tobirama snarled sleepily at the loud noise, but didn’t move from his comfortable spot. He didn’t have to – Madara sent Hashirama a glare in Tobirama’s stead. It was only a little undermined by the way he was carding through pale hair with one hand and rubbing Tobirama’s back with the other, apparently having moved past his fluster enough to take advantage of the situation like a proper shinobi, albeit still blushing heavily.

Hashirama’s shoulders hunched, and he looked at Touka for guidance once more.

She huffed a sigh. “Grab whatever paperwork you need, and go work in Tobirama’s office for the day,” she quietly advised. When Hashirama went to object, she raised an imperious eyebrow – she did that _so_ well, Izuna mused dreamily. “Do you _want_ to risk disturbing him?”

Hashirama paled and shook his head rapidly. He grabbed up a messy armful of papers and scrolls, threw his brother one last look – of mingled ‘aww’ and ‘eek!’ – and fled the room.

A strong arm wrapped around Izuna’s waist, and he squeaked, looking at Touka, who was smirking again. He… didn’t mind so much, being laughed at, not when she was pressed close all along one side as she turned them towards the door.

“Come on Izuna, you promised me dango,” Touka said, and then she _squeezed his hip_.

At the firm grip, Izuna was abruptly reminded of her strength, and in turn of her arms, and then of an earlier thought he’d had. And without thinking about it, he blurted out, “What are your thoughts on pegging?”

And then Izuna wanted to _die_!

Across the room, Madara stifled either a groan or a laugh. Whichever it was, it was laden with judgement. As if Madara had any room to judge! He was not a _bit_ smoother than Izuna – at least _Izuna_ didn’t flail!

…He did, however, see the appeal in ducking his red face behind his high collar and trying to suffocate himself with the fabric.

“Oh?” Touka said, tone sultry and _interested_.

Izuna’s head shot up. Her eyes were particularly dark, and that was by far the _sexiest_ smirk he’d ever seen on her blood-red lips.

Oh. _Well_ then. Excellent!

Izuna perked up, embarrassment forgotten – he had never been one to linger on shame, though Madara sometimes said he just didn’t _have_ any – and all but skipped at Touka’s side out of the office, and then the tower.

Izuna beamed. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and it was a lovely day – everything was bright and hopeful. He had the gorgeous Touka Senju pressed to his side, and they were going on a _date_ ; his brother was cuddling the object of his own affections; and, Izuna thought hopefully, if Madara didn’t screw up when Tobirama woke, there could be an end to all the pining!

But best of all?

There might be pegging and wall sex in Izuna’s future!

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler: Being pegged against a wall is _absolutely_ in Izuna’s future! Touka is very happy to oblige.
> 
> As for Tobirama, he has found the _perfect_ sunbeam – aka warm person – for napping purposes and is keeping him now. _His_ sunbeam. Dibs.
> 
> Madara... really doesn’t mind.
> 
> Meanwhile, Hashirama is the only one having a bad day, poor flower.


End file.
